All the Pretty Hearses (13 page)

“So Hannah is married to somebody named Zachary Conrad,” Renie said, studying the guest list. “I know that name. The gas company? No, Conrad works for the city’s lighting department. In fact, that project I’m doing for their retired employees had his name attached as one of the execs who has to okay my final design.” She made a face. “I’ve never met him. Quick, I need an assumed name. Want to call me Rita?”

“I really don’t,” Judith said. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” Renie pointed out quite seriously, “the higher the echelon of management, the bigger the ego and the smaller the brain. That’s true of most corporations, and it may be worse with civil servants, which is what Zachary Conrad is. He played basketball at the University, went into the pros for a couple of years, but hardly ever got off the bench. Still, he was able to get on with the city and rose through the ranks, which may or may not mean he’s competent. Even if he’s a genius, he’ll carp at every little thing that requires his approval to show he has input, and thus an actual intellect. I’ve never met him, but I may have to. I don’t want him thinking of me as the middle-aged moron dishing up Tofu Doodoo in the kitchen. Besides, I’m not wearing my professional wardrobe, which is very different from what I have on now.”

“It sure is,” Judith murmured, gazing at her cousin’s rumpled green sweatshirt from Lefty O’Doul’s bar in San Francisco. “You might consider combing your hair.”

Renie shot Judith a disgusted look. “Why? I’m not posing for a portrait. In fact, I’m not going to sort out these Paines either. They can slap their stupid tags on and we’ll play it by ear. I wouldn’t recognize any of these goofballs if they fell in my birdbath.”

Judith shrugged. “Fine. I just want to get this over with.” She glanced at the schoolhouse clock, which showed that it was two minutes after five. “When you finish those name tags, would you call Woody?”

Renie scrunched up a name tag that she’d lettered imperfectly. “Why me? It’s your husband who’s in the slammer.”

“You bond with Woody. I don’t want to be a pest.”

“Ooh . . .” Renie finished the last two Paines and stood up. “Okay.”

Judith nodded toward the bulletin board. “Woody’s new work number is pinned up there.”

Renie grabbed the phone, checked the scribbled notation, and dialed. “He’s not answering.” she said, disconnecting. “I’m not leaving a message. He’s probably gone home.”

“Drat.” Judith was placing puff-pastry shells on a baking sheet. “This is so wrong.” She all but yanked the oven door off its hinges. “If Joe’s sitting on his dead butt at city expense helping solve crimes, it’s mean of him to leave me in the lurch.”

Renie’s face was bland. “Yes, it’s odd that the police would ask for help from a retired detective who is also a licensed private investigator. What are they thinking of?” She made an inept attempt at snapping her fingers. “Wait! I’ve got it! They should hire a rank amateur instead!”

“Not funny,” Judith huffed. “I don’t mean that, I—” The doorbell interrupted her. “Damn,” she muttered. “It can’t be the guests.”

“I’ll answer it,” Renie offered.

“No, I will,” Judith said, nudging her cousin out of the way. “I’m not a walking advertisement for getting loaded.”

The doorbell sounded a second time. “Hold your horses,” she said under her breath, going into the entry hall. Before she could reach the door, it swung open. Judith stopped, staring in disbelief.

A horse was staring back at her.

Chapter Eleven

J
udith stood stock-still and let out a little yip. She was about to slam the door shut, but heard a disembodied male voice speak her name.

“Mrs. Flynn?”

“What?” she croaked, bracing herself on the banister.

A youthful freckled face with a mop of red hair leaned into view on the other side of the storm door. “I’m Chase Paine. Where should I put Knickers?”

Trying to collect herself, Judith moved to the doorway. “You’re . . .” She paused as the horse brushed its mane against the glass. “Never mind. Why did you bring a horse?”

Chase spoke softly to Knickers. “Hey, buddy, step aside.” The animal obeyed. “My mom told me it’d be fine. You have a toolshed, right? Can Knickers stay there? I brought him into town because he has to be reshod tomorrow.”

“Holy crap!” Renie called from the door between the dining room and the entry hall. “What the hell?”

Judith jumped. Knickers whinnied. Chase opened the storm door. A gust of wind blew into the house.

“Can I take Knickers to the toolshed now?” he asked.

“No!” Judith cried, grabbing the door to keep it from blowing shut. “Wait! Yes, take the horse down the driveway. I’ll open the garage.” She closed the door and leaned against it. “My God! What now?”

“A horse, of course,” Renie said, and frowned. “There’s no room for a horse in your garage.”

“I know that,” Judith snapped, hurrying through the living room with Renie at her heels. “I’m going to put my Subaru in the driveway and hope Snickers or whatever its name is doesn’t eat the MG.”

“Do the reverse,” Renie said. “Back Joe’s car outside. Even if the horse nuzzles yours, the MG will be safe.”

“Joe would kill me if I left the MG exposed to the elements,” Judith said, opening the French doors that led to the back porch. She paused before heading outside. “You’re right, though. I’ll put the canvas cover on his car. Can you help me?”

“Sure,” Renie said. “You got his keys?”

Judith winced. “No. I’ll get the spare pair from the kitchen.” Hearing the
clip-clop
of horse hooves on the wet cement, she turned to see Chase Paine leading Knickers down the drive. It was quicker for her to go along the porch and back through the kitchen hall than to retrace her steps. Glancing over her shoulder to see if Chase was holding the horse’s reins, she almost collided with Arlene at the back door.

“Careful!” Arlene exclaimed, grabbing Judith’s arm to steady her before she stared as Chase and Knickers approached the garage. “Oh—I’m not hallucinating. Dare I ask why I saw a horse on your porch?”

“Of course it was a . . .” Judith leaned again, this time against the back door. “Yes. It’s a horse. And that’s Chase Paine leading him.”

Arlene looked relieved. “Good. Then I was only seeing double.”

“Double?” Judith echoed weakly.

Wiping rain from her forehead, Arlene nodded. “Chad just got out of a truck with a small trailer in front of your house. He’s Chase’s twin.”

“Oh.” Judith caught her breath. “I have to get—”

“Move it!” Renie yelled, opening the back door and dangling a key ring. “Take these. I found them in the junk drawer.”

Judith stepped aside so her cousin could hand over the MG’s keys. “Thanks,” she said feebly.

“Hi, Arlene,” Renie said. “Come in. You’re all wet.”

“Oh?” Arlene looked surprised, but stayed put. “I’m fine. I want to watch this. I think Chad’s on the front porch. You should let him in.”

Before Judith could make a move, Gertrude called out from the toolshed doorway. “What’s all the ruckus about? Where’s my supper?”

Wearily, Judith went down the porch steps to make eye contact with her mother. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when I bring out your supper. I mean, your
dinner
. That won’t be for another half hour.”

Despite the rain, Gertrude rolled her wheelchair down the short ramp onto the sidewalk and past the patio. “Lord help us!” she cried, seeing the horse. “Didn’t that pain of a Paine woman realize I was giving her a bad time?”

Judith met her mother by the statue of Saint Francis. Sweetums darted out of the toolshed and ran toward the house. Arlene and Renie stood together on the porch, giving way to the cat, who wanted in. Chase waited in the driveway, holding the horse’s reins and looking impatient while raindrops bounced off of his uncovered shock of hair.

“What Paine?” Judith demanded of Gertrude.

“Somebody from SOTS,” Gertrude replied, one hand shielding her face from the rain. “She called me the other day to ask if she could stable her horse in the toolshed. I figured she was one of your usual nutty friends and said sure, and bring along the lions, the tigers, the bears, and the oh-mys, too. Couldn’t take a joke, I guess.”

Judith sucked in her breath, lest she say something she’d regret. Then she realized that Gertrude wasn’t the one at fault. “That must’ve been Norma—or one of her clan.”

Gertrude looked momentarily puzzled. “They ride around town on a horse? What kind of mess have you gotten us into now, Toots?”

“Good question,” Judith murmured. “Go back inside, Mother. You’ll catch cold. Please.”

Gertrude ran a hand through her white hair. “You’re right. Guess I’ll stick my head in the microwave to dry out.” She paused. “Is that your new boyfriend in the driveway with . . . hold it. Whoever is with him is already here. Am I having a stroke?”

Judith turned around. Addison had joined Renie and Arlene on the porch. Her gaze darted to the driveway, where two redheaded young men stood by Knickers. “They’re the Paine twins, Mother.”

Gertrude looked disgusted. “That bunch! Never could stand ’em. Wilbur’s mother cheated at Bingo. Wouldn’t trust any of that crew an inch.” She wheeled around and sailed back to the toolshed.

Trudging over to the porch, Judith greeted Addison. “I thought you’d been arrested, too,” she said—and grimaced. “Never mind.”

Arlene offered a hand to Judith. “Hang on to me. You look very tired. Serena told me about Joe. I’m sure he didn’t shoot anyone. If he did, Carl and I will swear we were with him the whole time. Or would it help if Carl confessed to shooting . . . who got shot? I could use a vacation. Martha Morelli asked me to go to Hawaii with her.”

“Oh?” Judith paused at the top step. “Oh, damn! I forgot to unlock the garage and put the MG in the driveway.”

“I’ll do it,” Renie volunteered. “What’s the code?”

“You can’t,” Judith said. “You’ve never driven the MG. It’s not like a regular car, not even a standard gearshift. In fact, you don’t drive your own car that well. I’m not entrusting Joe’s precious MG to you.”

“Jerk!” Renie yelled. “Go ahead, catch pneumonia. See if I care.” She stomped into the house and banged the screen door behind her.

“Great,” Judith grumbled, her fist tightening on the car keys as she started back down the steps.

“Hold it,” Addison called from the porch. “You open the garage, I’ll move the MG. I owned one in my salad days.”

“Thanks,” Judith said, handing over the keys, and trying to ignore the whinnying horse. She moved as fast as she could, punched in the code, and hurried back to the porch.

Arlene opened the screen for her and followed Judith inside. “I hate to be nosy, but why are you going to keep that horse in the garage? Shouldn’t it be somewhere like a
farm
?”

“It should be on Jupiter, for all I care,” Judith retorted. “Somehow this is all the Paines’ doing. They’ll have to get that animal out of here before Joe gets back from . . . downtown.”

“I’m confused,” Arlene said, wincing as they entered the kitchen to the cacophony of Renie banging pots and pans together in an apparent effort to work off her anger. “Alicia and Reggie used our ladder to escape from your house. Now the Paines’ grandchildren . . .” She grimaced and put her hands over her ears as Renie dropped a large cast-iron lid in the steel sink.
“Can you make
your cousin stop that?”
Arlene asked through clenched teeth.

“No,” Judith replied. “She only stops when she—”

Renie whirled around, stubbed her toe on a skillet she’d dropped, and crashed against the dishwasher.

“—hurts herself.” Judith paused, watching her cousin clutch her rib cage and moan with pain. “Like that.”

Arlene nodded and glanced at her watch. “Oh—it’s going on six. I must take Carl to the ER. Have fun.” She started for the back door.

“Wait!” Judith called after her. “Is Carl worse?”

“In a way,” Arlene said over her shoulder. “That’s why he was under the table. I had to take the ladder back to our house. See you later.”

Renie was still doubled over. “Take me with you!” she groaned. “I think I broke a rib.”

Arlene had made her exit. Judith took a big swig of Scotch and eyed her cousin with disgust. “So? Even if she does take you with her, they can’t do much for broken ribs.”

Renie straightened up. “You’re mean. I should go home and leave you with this mess.”

“You won’t,” Judith said blithely as Addison came through the hallway. “You may be ornery, but you’re a sport.” She waited for Addison to hang up his jacket. “Did you see Joe?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” Addison replied, noticing Renie for the first time. “Serena?” He reached out a hand. “I haven’t seen you since you were at Good Cheer Hospital.”

“Weren’t we all?” Renie muttered, but shook his hand. “Hi. It’s nice to see another Good Cheer patient who got out alive.” Immediately realizing her gaffe, she put her free hand to her mouth. “Oops! Sorry. Really. That was an awful thing to say.”

Addison shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s true.” He noticed the cousins’ drinks. “Would you mind if I . . . ?”

“Sure,” Judith said. “Alcohol is the only thing that might get us through the evening. Where are the twins?”

Addison was putting ice cubes in a glass. “In the garage with the horse. They have to feed and water him.”

“Great,” Judith said. “I trust they won’t bring him inside for dinner. Before all the Paines arrive, did you find out anything while you were gone?” She noticed that Addison had cast a wary eye at Renie. “Hey—my cousin may be ornery and impossible, but she’s utterly trustworthy. Surely you know that from the Good Cheer nightmare.”

“I do,” Addison replied. “I just wanted to make sure she hadn’t . . . changed since then.”

“Alas,” Judith responded, “she hasn’t. If anything, she’s worse.”

“Stick it,” Renie snarled, arranging raw vegetables on a wooden tray. “What were you supposed to find out, Addison?”

“Anything I could about why Joe isn’t here and I am,” he replied, leaning against the counter. “They still haven’t ID’d the dead guy. Or at least they haven’t released his name to any survivors. That would indicate they don’t know who he really is.”

Judith was filling small white fluted china bowls with three kinds of dip. “Does that mean he might be who he was supposed to be?”

Addison shook his head. “That person doesn’t exist. Not anymore, at least. The real James Edward Towne died five years ago in a car accident. I ran the name through the computer at work. He was from here but was on a trip to a livestock show east of the mountains.”

Judith frowned. “ID theft?”

“Probably.” Addison gazed at the wooden tray. “Do you mind? I haven’t eaten since I grabbed a hot dog at the food court in the America Tower by City Hall.”

“Be my guest,” Judith said. “Everybody else is.” She caught Addison’s sudden chagrined expression and apologized. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just want to get through this evening. Most of all, I want to get my husband back.”

Addison put a hand on Judith’s arm. “You will. Try thinking about his situation this way: He’s working. I don’t know exactly what he and the rest of the police are up to, but it’s something big. You know I can’t reveal my sources.”

“I . . .” Judith made a feeble attempt to smile. “Okay. I’ll try  . . .”

The front doorbell rang. Renie took a quick gulp of her drink before hurrying out of the kitchen before Judith could stop her. “Damn,” Judith said softly. “I should at least greet the Paines. I wouldn’t put it past my cousin to tell them to take a hike.”

To her surprise, she heard something akin to cheerful voices emanating from the entry hall. A young woman’s giggle tinkled like a glass bell. A deep male voice said, “Delightful place. Good choice on Mama’s part.”

Judith looked at Addison and shook her head. “Surprise.”

“Your cousin being civilized?” Addison said, after swallowing a black olive. “Or the Paines being cordial?”

“Both.” Judith wiped her hands on a towel. “I’d better play hostess. Could you take that vegetable tray into the living room and put it on the buffet for me?”

“Sure,” Addison replied. “But not until I polish off a couple more of these crab wontons in that chafing dish.”

“They’re not crab,” Judith said over her shoulder. “They’re chicken. One of the guests has a seafood allergy.” She continued on into the entry hall, where she saw a smiling Renie helping the new arrivals with their coats.

“Coz,” Renie said, smile still in place, “let me introduce you to some Paines. This is Walter and Sonya Paine,” she went on, indicating a husky, balding man and a slim, rather plain blond woman. “And this is their daughter, Zoë.”

Judith exchanged handshakes with the older couple first.

“Delighted to meet you,” Walter said.

Judith recognized the hearty voice she’d heard from the kitchen. “Welcome to Hillside Manor,” she said, before turning to Zoë, a younger, prettier version of her mother. “Goodness, it doesn’t seem possible that I don’t really know any of you after all these years of seeing Norma and Wilbur at church.”

The couple who’d come in behind the first three Paines laughed. “That’s because most of us fled the nest,” the man said. “I’m Andy, the Number One Son of a Paine.” He reached out and crushed Judith’s hand. “This is the little woman, my wife, Paulina.”

The “little woman” shot her husband an arch glance. “Stick it, Andy. You’re not twisting arms to peddle your wares to hardheaded civic and corporate consumers. We’re here to have
fun
. If we don’t, your gruesome mother will demand her money back.”